How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need; by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,--I love thee with the breath.
Smiles, tears, of all my life!--and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

Elizabeth Barrnett Browning

If ever two were one, then surely we.
If ever man were lov'd by wife, then thee;
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me ye women you can
I prize thy love more than whole mines og Gold.
Or all the riches that the East doth hold.
My love is such that rivers cannot quench,
Nor ought but love from thee, give recompense.
Thy love is such I can no way repay,
The heavens reward thee manifold repay,
Then while we live, in love let's so persevere
That when we live no more, we may live ever.

Ann Bradstreet

This is from a song: If

If I could save time in a bottle
the first thing that I'd like to do
is to save every day 'til eternity passes away
just to spend them with you

if I could make days last forever
if words could make wishes come true
I'd save every day like a treasure and then
again I would spend them with you

if I had a box just for wishes
and dreams that had never come true
the box would be empty except for the
memories of how they were answered by you

but there never seems
to be enough time to do the
things you want once you find them
I've looked around enough to know that
you're the one I want to go through time with

She Walks In Beauty

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies,
And all that's best of dark and bright,
Meet in the aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven and gaudy day denies.

Lord Byron

It is almost here, that special time of year.
When hearts and flowers by the hours are
brought to all who seek; When kisses swirl
and words do peak into little tuffs of cotton
(candy) my sweet. So be my love and be my
own and call me on the telephone or send a
card, that is not hard, right to my waiting door,
and I'll be yours forevermore